Living Dead
by eyeboll
Summary: James proposes but Lily rejects. Why? Oneshot. LilyJames pairing.


**Disclaimer: I really don't own any of the characters. They all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling. And I don't claim the plot as mine either.**

**Living Dead**

_**by Isabel**_

I look down at him were he is kneeling in front of me, holding up a little green box with a shimmering diamondring inside.

I know that I should be proud, jiddy, overhelmed with joy and full of love. But I'm not.

Okay, it's really not nice of me but I can't help myself when I look at him and all I feel is loathing, annoyance and a great deal of sadness and disappointment.

I hate everything that has anything to do with him, from his unruly hair to his jeans that are always a little frayed down at the edge.

Once again I look down at him and in his eyes, where I earlier could see both joy, hopefulness and love, I now see an unsure gaze that are looking questiongly at me as tears begin streaming down my face.

I just manage to shake my head at him, before I run away, face buried in my hands and sobbing despairingly.

When I finally reach the forest I fall down on the ground.

Then I remember the stunned and hurt look on his face that was the last thing I saw before I ran away and I vomit.

How can I do this to him? I just don't comprehend myself.

In one way I love him, but still there's something about him that makes me sick, and I have so bad conscience for that.

But I had to do that, didn't I?

I mean, I can't trust him.

If I'm not around he could go out with his mates, get drunk and probably snog more than one girl on an evening.

Or he could forget the oven on so that the whole house caught fire.

I actually think that he's capable of anything.

That's why I can't marry him and I seriously think that both our lives will be better like this.

How could I be so bloody, fucking, sodding, damn stupid that I refused his proposal.

Just a week later I regretted it, but my _pride_ prevented me from go back to him and tell him that I loved him.

Damn that pride.

And I wasn't the only one suffering.

James, that had before been spontaneous, cocky, arrogant, funny and sometimes flat out rude, but at the same time a loving, caring and tender person, was now transformed to a robot.

He got up in the morning and came exactly in time to everything, did whatever he had to but never with any spark.

He didn't spoke to his friends anymore and when someone made a joke he would just stare at the person with a completely blank expression and with that dead, hollow eyes that I had soon grown to hate so much.

But I never admitted even to myself that this was my fault.

I kept convincing myself that this was just hormones and that he had finally gone mature, but in the back of my mind I knew that I only had myself to blame for this living dead that was walking among us.

When we graduated he was still that living dead and now he seemed even more like he didn't care.

He had stopped coming to classes and was just lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, according to the reports from his friends.

I think that his friends was the only thing that at all kept him going. I secretly wished that I was one of them that kept him going, even if I oftenly cursed myself for that fact.

I suddenly realized what I had to do.

_I_ was the one that put him in this state from the beginning and_ I_ should be the one getting him out of it, too.

In the middle of day, when everyone else were in class, I sneaked up to see him.

The sight that met my eyes made me flinch.

James was lying in bed, eyes open and directed at the ceiling and he was as pale as the sheet he was lying on.

But that wasn't the worst.

He looked like a skeleton. He probably hadn't eaten in weeks.

When I sat down on his bedside he blinked, but otherwise didn't acknowledged me in any way.

But when I put my hand on his cheek he closed his eyes and I was overhelmed with all that love I should have felt when he proposed, but didn't.

"I love you," I said softly, petting his hair.

His eyes flicked open and he turned to look at me.

"Lily flower..." he whispered hoarsly but I hushed him down, putting a finger on his lips.

And in that moment I realized that what I felt for him was love and also why everybody had tried paring us up, saying that we were perfect for eachother all this years.

We were perfect for eachother.

The cocky asshole and the pretty flower as he described us.

**A/N: Liked it or not? Please tell me in a review. Many thanks to those angels who do press the little button below!**


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